Chapter Eleven
The trip to the airport the following morning was…uncomfortable.
When Caitlin and Alex had left my parents’ house the night before, my friend had apologized profusely, her blue eyes red-rimmed and glassy.
“I don’t know why I said anything.” Caitlin smacked her forehead. “It just came out.”
Unsure of what to say and still reeling from the fallout of her disclosure, I held my tongue.
When Caitlin reached out to hug me, I let her.
As her shoulders shook with her tears, I patted her on the back, murmuring nonsense words I don’t remember.
Somehow I wasn’t surprised to find myself comforting Caitlin when she had wronged me.
So when I pulled up to the curb outside the airport terminal, I braced myself for more of her apologies.
As I turned to her in the passenger seat, Caitlin grasped my hand. “I’m sorry I ruined the weekend.”
“You didn’t ruin the weekend,” I replied automatically. “My parents and I are okay. We’ll always be okay.”
“You’re sure?” Caitlin asked, squeezing my fingers.
I cocked my head. “I wouldn’t lie to you.” I steadfastly ignored how Alex shifted in the back seat.
“Okay.” Caitlin swallowed, staring down at our clasped hands. “When will I get to see you again?”
“That depends on your schedule.” I raised a palm. “What’s it like over the holidays?”
Caitlin mashed her lips together. “My parents want me to visit for Thanksgiving, and I have some events in the city for the holidays. But I’ll let you know.”
Her parents probably want to meet Alex. I viciously pushed away the thought. “I’ll be around,” I said instead, shrugging.
Alex grabbed Caitlin’s suitcase from the trunk while I hugged my friend on the sidewalk.
“Text or FaceTime when you can,” I murmured into her hair.
“I will.” Caitlin stepped back, swiping her fingers under her eyes. “I love you, and I’m sorry again.”
“I love you, too.” I watched as she turned to Alex with a smile as he set her suitcase next to her feet. Not wanting to witness their goodbye, I spun on my heel and waved at Caitlin over my shoulder. “Text me when you land.”
Climbing into the driver’s seat, I picked up my phone so I’d have something to focus on. Something other than the couple just outside my car. Mamí had sent a text. It was short and to the point.
Mamí: Drive safely, mi hijita. I love you mucho.
Our long discussion the night before had done much to repair the cracks in our relationship, and I was thankful that my parents weren’t ones to hold grudges. They took too much effort, as Papí often said.
The passenger door opened and Alex slid inside, pushing back the seat to make room for his long legs.
I looked past him through the window in time to see Caitlin’s blond head disappear inside the terminal, and my shoulders sank.
It wasn’t uncommon for me to feel a sense of melancholy when visits with Caitlin were over, but my feelings were different this time.
There was still sadness, but there were also hints of bitterness and anger that I didn’t like.
Pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth, I focused on the road.
Neither Alex nor I uttered a word until we were on Interstate 10. As we whipped by the jagged Tucson Mountains, Alex cleared his throat.
“It was a fun weekend.”
“I think a better word would be eventful.”
From my periphery, I saw Alex glance at me. “Why can’t it be both?”
“Fair point.” A long sigh fluttered my lips. “I’m sorry dinner last night was such a disaster.”
“But it wasn’t.”
Now it was my turn to glance at him. “Alex, you had a front-row seat to my parents’ disappointment in me. It was humiliating.”
Just reflecting on the things my parents had said, the stricken look on Mamí’s face in the aftermath of Caitlin’s bomb, made my whole body go hot with shame.
I cranked the air-conditioning up a bit higher, angling the vent so the cool air blew softly against my flushed cheeks. Curls fluttered about my face, but I didn’t bother to tuck them away.
“I’m sorry, Sofia. I know that wasn’t fun for you, but—” Alex paused, and I chanced a quick glance at him. He was considering the stretch of road before us, a crinkle between his brows. “I envy the relationship you have with your parents.”
“You do?” I said, dumbly.
“Yeah.” Alex leaned his head back against the seat and sighed. “I’ve never felt comfortable sharing many details about my life with my parents. They didn’t even know I was moving to Phoenix until I was already in Arizona.”
“Well, considering what you’ve shared about your nomadic childhood, that makes sense.” I bit my lip for a moment. “The only constants seem to have been your sisters, right?”
He hummed his assent. “But Elena and Camila don’t look at me like your parents look at you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.
“Your parents, especially your father, look at you like you hung the moon.”
My throat closed up around a rush of tears, and I blinked rapidly to keep them from coursing down my cheeks.
“When your dad took me to get a glass of El Dorado, he told me how you were the one who introduced him to it. He said you always have the best recommendations. Always know the trends and what’s happening culturally.”
I raised a hand. “Guilty of being chronically online.”
Alex’s deep chuckle made me warm inside. “Considering that’s what you do, it makes sense.” When he laughed again, I glanced over at him. “Your father said you’re the family’s MacGyver.”
“Oh God, MacGyver.” I snort-giggled. “Now that’s a blast from the past. MacGyver was before my time, but I’m flattered.”
“Hmm,” Alex said, tapping his chin. “I would say you’re more of a mix of Leslie Knope and April Ludgate.”
My grin hurt my cheeks. “That’s an honor.”
The air pulsed with a cheeriness I had not felt since before we left Phoenix.
A cheeriness that popped like a bubble at Alex’s next words. “How did it go after we left?”
The smile instantly fell from my lips. “It wasn’t bad,” I said after releasing a long breath.
And it hadn’t been bad. I had been braced for Mamí’s wrath and Papí’s quiet disappointment, but I encountered neither. Instead, when the front door closed after I walked Alex and Caitlin outside to catch their Uber, Papí had engulfed me in a hug while Mamí gripped my hand.
“We’re sorry you didn’t feel comfortable telling us what happened,” Papí had said, kissing the top of my head. “We want you to always feel secure coming to us for help.”
“I know, Papí,” I whispered. “I just haven’t needed help.”
“Really?” He pushed me back by my shoulders so he could see my face.
“Really,” I echoed, smiling weakly.
“Ay, well come sit down and tell us everything.” Mamí tugged me toward the living room.
After we were seated on the cozy tuxedo sofa, my mother on my right and my father on my left, I recapped the events that led to me being laid off from Desert Media 360.
Predictably, Mamí was outraged, releasing a long string of curse words in Spanish, while Papí patted my hand, murmuring his frustration on my behalf.
We discussed my job search that occurred afterward, and by the time I went to bed, it felt as if an elephant-sized weight had been lifted from my chest.
“I told them about the Matildas.”
Alex whipped his head around, and I could feel his gaze on my face. “You did?”
I nodded. “They couldn’t understand why I wasn’t searching for a new job more earnestly. At one point, they started to talk over me as if I wasn’t there, planning how they could move money into my bank account so I wouldn’t fall behind on my mortgage payments.”
“Oh no,” Alex whispered.
“Exactly.” I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “So I just told them.”
“Told them…” Alex paused, shifting in his seat. “That social media was paying your bills?”
“Pretty much.” I lifted a shoulder. “As I predicted, they didn’t understand. So I showed them several videos, as well as my analytics. I think they started to realize I was being sincere when they saw my numbers.”
“I’ve never seen your numbers”—Alex whistled—“but I have seen your views, and they’re impressive.”
My lips twitched in a smile. “Thank you.” My gaze grew unfocused as I reflected on the night before. “I think what really solidified it for my mother was my video on ángela Ruiz Robles.”
“Ah, yes, the mother of mechanical e-books long before Kindles were a thing. That was a good one.”
My body felt weightless for a moment. “I thought so. And my mother liked it, too, but she also scolded me.”
Alex chuckled. “Why?”
“Because she felt left out.” I glanced at Alex in time to see his expression darken. “She’s a historian, after all, and was offended that I hadn’t thought to use her as a resource.”
“That’s an excellent point.” Alex studied my profile. “So are you going to use her now? Now that they know?”
Slowly, I nodded. “I told them that if they kept the Matildas and my social media personality under wraps, I would include them in the brainstorming and fact-gathering part of the series. I could tell it was a hard decision because heaven knows my father loves to brag about Javi and me, but after reiterating my need to maintain some semblance of privacy, and emphasizing how weird people on the internet are, he agreed.”
“The internet is a wild place. I’m lucky that the one friend I’ve made online is weird, but in a good way.” When I shoved his shoulder, Alex laughed. “In all seriousness, though, I’m sure it’s a relief not to keep secrets from them any longer.”
“It is. And now hopefully they won’t worry about me as much,” I added with a sigh.
Alex scoffed. “Oh, they’re still going to worry.” He paused again, and I knew what he was going to say before he said it. “Do you think now you’ll tell Caitlin?”
“No.” I blurted out the word before my brain consciously thought it.
“Is it because of last night?” he asked gently.
Pressing my lips into a thin line, I simply nodded.
“She felt awful about letting the news slip.”
God, I did not need to hear Alex defend Caitlin. It made it so much worse.